Chapter 2: Disconnected

Lorenzo had walked into another amazing day of his travels, accompanied by his friend, Placido. Inside the cafe, a short building with a peaked roof, was a full house. He hoped there was a novel idea or a topic that wasn’t treaded upon in the last two weeks. Except chatter all sounded familiar to him, as he passed by, discussed during the six months he was here.

With no new soirees or operas, he was tiring of the city. It was no longer fresh, instead; he had lived here and seen all it offered. Whether it was the salons, usually with a witty hostess and if they could gain entry, or even the cafes were, they talked as they often worked.

But he had mostly taken to writing correspondence to the handful who had meshed with him in ideas, often taking up more time than he did.

Placido had taken to mostly reading all his old books, all day, eager to absorb like a sponge, but he was more of a collector.

The men all wore powdered wigs, for it was fashionable to do so, and making them difficult to distinguish. He had done so too, over his black hair, worn short, and his hazel eyes, and a relatively small nose.

But only perhaps Kings were, but most rarely enjoyed having such men of letters as they often talked more than what was permissible in most kingdoms. Often about reforming the government, giving people ideas, which could be dangerous.

Sometimes, their books were censored and forbidden. Though it was easy to get around the laws.

As he looked around, all the familiar faces, talking and sometimes getting into heated debates about their ideas.

Then, they stopped in a familiar group that Placido often conversed with. He was interested in the encyclopedia's improvement meant to contain all the information thus known in the world. “I’ll give them a chat, just to see what stage they’re at and if there was anything that I can help.”

Lorenzo was less interested in their minor project than he was debating about political philosophy, or living life in accordance to the principles itself of the enlightenment or even arguing what should matter more, whether they could willingly abandon it so that only rationalism remained. Or perhaps just what they should learn in education?

There were so many ideas that he could.

There, he spotted an empty table, quickly taking it, and then asking for coffee. He had a good question.

“Do you think this city is becoming boring?” Lorenzo asked, staring at Placido’s blue eyes.

“I don’t know, but with more and more day of me just reading.” Placido agreed with his friend.

“Well, if someone returned, it would make things interesting, but that is a temporary solution.”

Lorenzo said. “Maybe we’ve been here long enough that it’s no longer fresh. It’s become home. Except the other options are above our means.”

Mostly talking about some of the wittiest salons, and they were provincial nobles of some rank. But neither of them were swimming in wealth, and even his lifestyle was all his father would give him.

“How do you feel about further north, Erandel?” Placido offered.

“Even further north, with a language that I can’t speak yet. I only learned some basics.” Lorenzo thought about it. “It might be worth a visit.”

“I can teach you,” Placido offered “Well, I think it was getting on my nerves around two months ago, but you somehow always found some new thinker to talk to or some salon that I could try to enter.” Then he lowered his voice. “But now, I subtly have been thinking whether I should tell you.”

Lorenzo took a sip. He immersed himself in philosophy, and to expand just what he knows. “But perhaps it’s time to move on.”

He had to agree, it would be good. A country where a king wasn’t absolute, of fabulous wealth and dominance of the seas and trade.

“But before we go, maybe I’ll give the library one last raid.” Placido offered, his eyes not willing to go unless he had.

Lorenzo rolled his eyes. “You go there every week. I’m even wondering where do you find the money to do this. I’m sure you spend more on your books than you did on this entire trip.”

But it would take one or two weeks to travel to Erandel.

Placido’s family was old, and had a famed collection, but it was far from any cities and he mostly stayed in the small town when he was back home. Lorenzo understood his hunger for knowledge, but never why he liked to collect it.

“I thought you wanted to be more of an intellectual,” he said, his mind already moving to the next location and all the people they would meet.

“That’s always more of you, Lorenzo. You talk about all the different perspectives, ideas. But I prefer to collect them and read them for what their worth is, unlike you who prefers to debate them,” Placido said. “I’m just not too comfortable, as I’m not passionate about a particular topic, though I have my gripes back home and its collection. It’s mostly theology.”

He liked the idea of collecting and storing knowledge, even contributing his own ideas to their minor project to help make things more sensible. But he shared few opinions, although he agreed more or less with Lorenzo.

He gave a chuckle. “But I’m only good at that in letters, when in person, I stumble all the time. But it’s only meeting them in person who my letters don’t end up unread and they would reply.”

Even if he felt deeply uncomfortable, he would set it right aside.

He only collected a few, but he preferred his home, for the capital in his tiny little duchy had a true library to be proud of. He took trips there, but it paled in terms of how intellectually vibrant it was.

It was time to see what Erandel could offer him, or rather, Broughton offered.

 

---

Lorenzo opened the door, the candles having already burned out in the morning. It was kind of small, compared to even his own room on his estate.

But he lived in a large villa in his home country of Paserta, switching to living in a cramped shared apartment in Sarponne, even smaller than the townhouse he had in the city.

It was only slightly less constricting than his life in university where he shared a single room with a roommate, although made up for the direct and almost constant access to the library. But he had almost none here, although balanced by the chance to learn from the best minds.

Lorenzo cleared his desk of quill, paper and having to send all his unmailed correspondence, Placido having taken the books from the various shelves.

“Is there anything that you require, signore?” Placido had brought his valet with him, named Amico, a kind man.

“Help me buy a new trunk,” he said.

“Of course,” he said, going off.

“You need an entire new trunk?” Lorenzo asked.

“Yes, I bought that much.” Placido gave a sheepish smile.

“And you’re still going?” He asked.

Lorenzo had spent a lot in terms of parchment and ink, but it was their way to sharing cost. He used it more often and Placido lent him all the books he wanted. He couldn’t really fault his friend for finding Sarponne such a treasure trove of information.

As opposed to Paserta, one of the smaller cities, although still a capital.

“Yeah, but I still want to. Once Amico is done, I’ll go to the bookstore and stay there till the evening.”

And Placido was already getting started on all the packing just so he could.

Then, there was his valet too, Gennaro, coming in. They had stayed here in the room, sharing it was easy.

Such as hiring the horses and the carriage.

“We’re panning to go soon, from here and beyond. Even including a sea trip.”

“Are you sure, Signore?” He asked. “You don’t do well on ships.”

Lorenzo smiled. “There’s not much of a trip. I have to cross the channel as it’s the only way, no matter how much I would appreciate a land route. I’m sure I can deal with it.”

“Of course, Erandel is an island.” Gennaro told him. “I’ll prepare for it.”

If they wanted to leave within the next few days, it would be necessary. He took a seat down.

Then, Gennaro took a turn back. “Before I go, signore, you have a visitor.”

Lorenzo agreed to take the visitor. Except that it was a courier, who had smiled when he met him, bending down.

He was young and sent here, dressed in the livery of his family’s estate.

“Signore, I have an urgent message from your parents.” He presented the letter, but it was not all on his person. There was a small trunk, likely filled with coins. This was truly urgent. His father often sent him a note to redeem at a bank, but now he came with cash.

He took the letter. The seal was from his father. He opened it using the letter opener, almost wondering what was the message.

His father required his presence back home; he put it down, unable to think of why he would need him. It would throw his plans so much. But first, he needed to think.

Lorenzo would have wanted to see Erandel, a few more cities, and then head back to Paserta. Maybe it would take another year, but this changed everything. He didn’t have a choice anymore.

“Is there anything wrong?” Gennaro asked, knowing him since he was a boy, and was previously a footman who got only assigned to him when he came of age.

“Could you go out and find Signor Badoleto?” Lorenzo told him.

He nodded before going to carry his order.

“Thank you,” he said, passing the courier some money or going so far.

“I am to remain here to help with the plans, as it likely created a quick change in plans. And also as part of your escort.”

“Are you alone?”

“No, signore, I’m not. I came with a small entourage of men to help you, and also a carriage directly back.”

That would remove all the obstacles.

“Then stay here for the night and use the funds here. I have to settle some matters beforehand.” His father would cover a day of board extra, he knew it too well.

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The man nodded, thanking him before leaving.

Placido had come right back to meet him, knowing why. He closed the door, Lorenzo dismissing them, before they took a seat int he room.

“What happened?” He asked, wanting to ask in private.

“My father requests my immediate presence back home. He’s even sent people to take me home so that I won’t have to.” He knew he was serious now. “I need to go with him instead of going anywhere else.”

Placido nodded, but letting him tell him.

“Well, in that case, I think I would go back. You’re half the fun, really, and you know how to get us into the best sights. Maybe I’ll look for someone else, but for now, I’ll head back home to Rovirna.”

Rovirna was in central Itoro, but he lived in the northern, pretty close to the western part of the middle sea.

“You’re not sure you want to continue?”

“I also know myself incredibly. I am better if I have someone to accompany with and to handle some of it. It’s much less cheap, even if I didn’t really like the salons or the hostesses.”

And also travel was dangerous. There was always the chance of banditry unless they went armed with an escort. Together, they shared the cost.

“Alright, but you should stop by my house a little. Just to show you some stuff. The library there is a highlight alongside the food.”

They were famous for their meats and cheese.

“Alright, now that is what I need.”

“But should we tell the landlord?” He asked.

“How about we just pack and settle the rest tomorrow since it’s much more tiring to pack?” He asked.

Placido needed to deal with his books, as he liked it. And Lorenzo would want to refresh his correspondence, and do some packing.

---

 

Lorenzo woke up early in the morning, staring out the window, knowing today was his last day. He would need to go back once they settled with the landlord for their bill. It was impromptu, but they could do it once they vacated.

Placido was still asleep as he thought about why, but it would take a week or two for any letter. And if it wasn’t urgent, he could go back and then maybe set off again soon. It was much better than trying to argue with his parents through letters, as it took time.

And, of course, he didn’t intend to defy his own father’s orders.

But Gennaro and Amico already woke up at the light of dawn, getting worked.

“I would help you get dressed, Signore for your trip. The food is not quite ready yet. I’ll check with the kitchen later.”

Lorenzo agreed. He doubts he could sleep much now. He had too much in his mind, and being in the carriage often meant that he spent most of it just looking out the window, usually for a bumpy ride.

Until they came to a stop, although those were few from the monotony of the slow, bumpy ride home.

“Yes, that would be good.” Lorenzo got up, waiting for him to come.

Gennaro went to grab his clothes, coming back with his traveling clothes. They dressed in Lorenzo opened his hand, so that he could dress him.

“Are you upset at the news?” The man asked.

It threw Lorenzo’s plans into disarray, casting away his wishes and desires to head into Erandel. There was such a clear image formed right in his mind about what he expected from Erandel: plenty of talks, perhaps more than they had more options than before.

But he had to put his own dreams behind him, and duty first since his father summoned him.

“No, I’m more worried.” He looked as he had already put on his shirt and breeches. “Mama told me he had taken ill, but he recovered recently. If anything improves, we’ll be back on the road pretty soon.”

He still held out some hope that he could, but he would return first. There were so much unknowns waiting for him at home.

Gennaro nodded.

“Tell me what you think.” Lorenzo stared at him in the eyes, beckoning him to say more.

“I think that’s for the best signore,” he said. They were almost done with him placing his wig, powdering it so that it was grey. Now it was the cravat.

He heard footsteps, turning his head to see a sleepy Placido who yawned before downing a cup of coffee that Amico brought him.

“You’re already getting ready to leave?” Placido looked, raising his eyebrow.

“I couldn’t quite go back to sleep, and all I could think about was spending the whole day in a carriage. Neither of them particularly thrills me.” He has never heard of anyone who enjoys the actual traveling much compared to the sights he’ll see.

“Well, we could at least talk. You’re going to enjoy it more than me.”

“You prefer to read, but it’s not that easy to be reading on a carriage.” Lorenzo admitted. “I’ve tried a few things.”

“Yes,” he said.

“I’m glad for the company.” Lorenzo told him the truth, that he did. “I can talk to Gennaro, but not much, since he can read a little. Either way, I’m probably going to be writing furiously when we’ve stopped.”

“You need someone to talk about, whether it’s debating the meaning of life or even something as minuscule as the next stop. I could see Paserta before I really have to go back.”

“So, when should we meet to settle the last of our payments?”

“Once we’ve eaten, the landlord is never that much of an early riser.” Then, he had gone inside to dress.

Once Placido came out fully dressed, Amico showed up with the food at last. Lorenzo was far more famished than Placido and he excitedly ate.

Their valets had retired too, so that they could eat and prepare for the journey.

He picked up a loaf of bread and some butter, eating it in mostly silence.

“What would you miss most about Sarponne?” Lorenzo asked.

“The books, definitely, the selection, although they are pretty strict in terms of what they allow and not allow to be published. But you can still find it, and it’s not as though there is someone collecting all the books.”

Lorenzo gave a laugh, agreeing.

“It’s a cultural center and the center for all intellectuals or literary lions. That is what I liked. I don’t think I could have if I returned. Maybe a different sort of education of how to run an estate, fulfil my lordly duties and take care of the commoners in my domains.”

“That is a different sort.”

“And both our futures.” He gave a laugh.

He finished a cup of coffee before they needed to meet the landlord. The landlord took the lowest level and was someone that Placido knew through a family friend.

Lorenzo went down the steps to the ground floor, before knocking at the wooden door. Placido took over, always being the one who dealt with the matters of their lodgings.

An old man with greying hair, and a slight mustache open the door.

“We’re both leaving today.”

“That seems a little rushed.” The landlord folded his own hands, unable to think. “But alright, any reason?”

He was most curious, as they had been with him for six months. Now he had to find someone new. It was quite hasty, but he didn’t have that much time or wish to dally. The sooner he figured out what was going on, the sooner he could return to his travels.

“My friend needs to return immediately to his home, and we’ll pay up to today.” Placido had reached in, giving him the cost.

The man counted it in silence as they waited for him to give his approval.

“You’re both free to go. Have a safe trip,” he said, giving them a wave.

“That was fast,” Lorenzo said, surprised at how fast it went. “Wouldn’t he be more upset?”

Placido whispered. “He’ll just put up a new notice. He doesn’t need it that fast, so he’ll just find someone new to takeover. Maybe a family.”

Lorenzo and Placido both left the building. Their lease was done. Gennaro and Amico stood there, having completed the preparations for their trip.

“Farewell, Sarponne.” He mentioned it to his friend.

“Farewell, but not the last time either of us will see it.” Placido gave a smile. “That might help to think that this isn’t permanent.”

“You’re right, I’ll come back again someday.” Lorenzo had to agree. He would come back again.

But instead of going north to Erandel, they were going south to Itoro, to home.

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